


The pressure of days, do what I say, and I’ll make you okay and drive them away.

by brieIarson



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24015988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brieIarson/pseuds/brieIarson
Summary: "Carlos Reyes was the epitome of a compassionate being. In fact, if you had asked T.K. Strand, he was too good for the inhumane world that he worked in."
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 5
Kudos: 122





	The pressure of days, do what I say, and I’ll make you okay and drive them away.

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of Rape/Non-Consensual Sex (not to main characters.)
> 
> Inspired by "Between the Bars" by Elliott Smith.

Carlos Reyes was the epitome of a compassionate being. In fact, if you had asked T.K. Strand, he was too good for the inhumane world that he worked in. He was the gentle ray of sun in the darkest storms, but even the sun hides behind the dismal clouds when the tempest gets too intense.

He sat quietly in his car, letting the exhaust rumble at a mild tone. His head laid on the headrest, his hands still gripping at the steering wheel. It was his determined moment of release, his long exhale of exhaustion and grief. He promised himself he wouldn’t bring work into his home; he didn’t want to put that weight on someone else’s shoulders, because that would be selfish.

It was a simple knock at the window that drifted him out of his elusive condition. He rolled down the tinted window to a smiling T.K., and suddenly his sense of enervation was gone.

“Hey, you,” He said with a charming smile, leaning his arms on the door, “Coming inside anytime soon?”

T.K. was truly beautiful, Carlos already knew that, but the way the moon shone brightly down on him made his eyes shine in a different way.

“Carlos?” He asked, this time with more concern, twisting his head to get a better view of the solemn expression Carlos wore. “Are you okay?”

_Don’t bring work stress home because stress results in anger and irritability which evolves to domestic tension._

“Yeah, yeah, just taking a second to…relax” He said, displaying an optimistic grin (something Carlos was skilled at).

“Okay, how about we relax inside with a warm bowl of puttanesca?” T.K. said, almost as a request, not a question.

Carlos found himself staring again, staring in delicate admiration. The same stare he wore on the days that he found T.K. dancing in the kitchen, stirring a pan of red pasta sauce, or watched him sleep comfortably in the white sheets in the middle of the night.

“You made dinner?” He asks weakly.

T.K.’s expression changed into one of uncertainty. “Well, yeah, of course, you just worked a 12-hour-shift, I thought you deserved a nice, proper meal,” He said with an obvious tone.

“Oh, okay,” Carlos said turning his head back to the windshield with uncertainty.

“How about we going inside?” T.K. said. This time Carlos can confirm that this was not a question, nor a suggestion, it was an insistence.

T.K. opened the door, fully seeing the stiff position Carlos had set himself in. He didn’t notice that T.K., rolled the window up and turned the ignition off, he just stared at the windshield as if it had offended him.

He felt a tug on his hand, T.K.’s soft reassuring smile still placed on his lips. He pulled him to a standing position.

“Come on.”

He doesn’t remember how he got inside, how he now stood in the bathroom with a change of clothes in his hands. But now he could see the void eyes that stared back at him. He didn’t even recognize the person that stood in front of him. It was almost disgusting to look at this person, this person who didn’t smile.

It was rare that his mind went to this place, that all of his jovial spirit was dimmed. And he was grateful for that. And when the days did get bad, he was usually alone, but this time it was different, he had T.K.

The clothes were his, but they didn’t feel like him. They fit perfectly around his broad shoulders and comfortably around his waist, and yet it didn’t feel right.

He opened the door to a dark hallway, the only light coming from the kitchen. Soft jazz music was playing, T.K. always liked jazz. He said it was a personal form of poetry to him, a particular taste of art. Carlos never got it.

The dining room was decorated with different sizes of candles and a vase of flowers that sat in the middle of the table. T.K. used swift motions to set the table, placing the utensils down in a tender manner. He stepped back to appreciate his work, smiling victoriously.

Carlos now stood behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist in a sluggish way. He placed his head on his shoulder, placing a sensitive kiss on his linen shirt.

“Hey, you, I was starting to get worried” T.K. chuckled. T.K. wanted to prod and push, he wanted to press every button that made Carlos tick, but he was afraid that if he pushed too far, Carlos would break.

He twisted his body to face the man, placing his hands on his neck to support his head. “Hi,” He said simply.

“Hi” Carlos said faintly. The pressure on his head was building up, and it felt like at any moment he was going to explode. T.K. wanted nothing more than to press his thumb into his furrowed brow and relieve the strain.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, but if you do want to talk, I’m here,” He said brushing a hand to his cheek. Carlos leaned into his touch with a small smile.

“I know, I know, but Ainsley said to never bring work home because then-”

“I don’t care what Ainsley said,” T.K. said interrupting his dejected thought, “We carry each other’s burdens, no matter how heavy,” he said pushing a loose curl back into his hair.

He was right. They did promise each other that, and ironically, it was Carlos who suggested it over a cup of red wine. And if he was in a better mindset, he would’ve laughed at the notion.

“Fine,” He said, thinking of a way to rephrase his plea, “Then, I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to hear these things,” He said with slight humiliation, “It-It’s not something I want you to hear.”

“No matter how heavy.”

“It’s a serial rapist, 5 victims – 6, now,” He said, closing his eyes, drawing in a long inhale, “College girls.” He had hurt him to say it. “We sat them down in a room to make them watch their own assault. Tyler, the way they looked, they were horrified and scared.”

It was then he finally broke. He bites into the words with resentment and bitterness. The damn of water in his eyes finally broke, and every tear is a salty confession to something he hadn’t done.

T.K. pulled him close, letting Carlos’ head fall onto his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around him protectively. If T.K. could have it his way, he would shield his boyfriend from any possible danger because he didn’t deserve to feel this way, to put the blame on his shoulders when there was nothing he could’ve done.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s not your fault” T.K. whispered into his ear, stroking his neck in reassurance. “C’mon breathe, baby.”

“You didn’t see them, Tyler, they were so helpless, _we_ failed them.”

It was that sentence that broke T.K. The exaggeration on the word ‘we’ made him feel powerless.

“Baby, it’s not your fault, I know you, okay, I know you’d do everything in your power to help those girls” He started, pulling away to make direct eye contact with him. “You can’t prevent every bad thing in the world, Carlos, you can’t protect everyone, but that doesn’t mean that this is your fault.”

He pressed his forehead against his and placed a hand on his cheek. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Carlos, that’s an unnecessary burden.”

Carlos latched his hand onto T.K.’s, trying to pull it away as if he didn’t deserve it, but T.K. didn’t budge.

“Stop, stop” He murmured, “Look at me, look at me. Breathe.” T.K. inhaled and exhaled at a normal pace, waiting for Carlos to soon follow.

It was a terrifying thought to T.K. on what Carlos would have done if he hadn’t said anything - if he would’ve kept his pain to himself.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

“But the food.”

“The food can wait.”

T.K. didn’t want to let him go, he didn’t want to pull away from the close intimacy he shared with him, but he did. He trailed his hand down Carlos’ arm, tracing every vein with his index finger as he did until his hand slide into his.

Carlos didn’t believe he was going to get much sleep that night, neither did T.K. But watching him sleep, as he did multiple nights before, settled something in his chest. It was a moment of tranquility; a moment in which the weight of the world didn’t exist on their shoulders, in which the sun never came up, and somehow Carlos felt peace in that, even if it was a moment.


End file.
